


Ripe/Wanting

by kelmeister



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blink and you miss it Hux, Blink and you miss it Rose, Brief drug addiction metaphor, F/M, Married Reylo, Morning Sickness, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Reylo Baby, Reylo Modern AU, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting, no birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelmeister/pseuds/kelmeister
Summary: Rey is pregnant with his child, and Ben Solo finds himself uncomfortably fascinated with her changing body.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 216
Collections: House Dadam A-Z Kink Collection





	Ripe/Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> TW: PREGNANCY
> 
> This is my first serious Reylo fic, written for the HouseDadam A-Z Kink Collection. My kink was "pregnancy fetishism." It's definitely pregnancy, hopefully I handled the fetishism well.

It begins innocently enough:

Rey standing in front of him, bouncing nervously on her toes, hands hidden behind her back. He imagines her already wide smile widening until the top of her head falls back. It's a ridiculous thought, but she's being ridiculous and it's starting to make him nervous.

"Come on, Rey, I'm tired of guessing," he whines. She responds with a giggle and her hands fly out at him so quickly he's caught by surprise, instinctually grabbing at the plastic stick shoved into his chest.

"I'm pregnant!" Her happy shout ends on a sob, tears streaming down her cheeks, her bouncing now at excited puppy. It takes him a second longer to catch up, a second longer to register the pregnancy test, to register two pink lines, to register his impending fatherhood. He looks at her in wonder.

"A _baby_ ," he whispers. He grabs her, clutches her to him, slowing her trembling. His heart is pounding, his breathing shallow. He buries his face against her neck, his tears soaking her shirt.

——

It starts with him on top.

He wants to be as gentle as the mother of his child deserves. He wants to worship her, show her how much he loves her, how much he appreciates her. He whispers a benediction into the valley between her breasts as he slowly thrusts into her, his cock brushing the spot deep within her body where their forever grows.

She's not having it. She pulls at his arm, her foot pressing against the mattress. It takes a second to register what she wants, what she's wordlessly saying she needs. He tucks an arm around her and rolls.

Rey sits above him, fingers gently kneading the skin of his belly. Her hips shift slightly, taking him in deeper. Her eyes shift, something in her changing, a light he's never seen before. Next thing he knows, she's grinding against him, her muscles gripping him, her ass rocking back against his balls. It's too much.

His fingers dig into the soft skin of her hips, trying to slow her, trying to calm the coming maelstrom, but she won't be contained.

"You put a baby in me," she gasps. She slips forward, her pussy slick against his groin. "We made a baby." She groans. "I'm going to be fat with your seed," she laughs, slightly hysterical, hips speeding up.

Ben is almost there, his balls tight, the familiar tingle at the base of his spine. His gaze drifts to her flat abdomen, watching her muscles expand and contract as she grinds down on him faster, harder. His right palm drifts over the freckled skin above her curls, fingertips ghosting over the spot where their child is tucked safely in her womb.

"I fucked a baby into you." He's in awe. "I came in you and you held my come in you and we made a baby." His words are spurring her faster. He barely notices fucking up into her harder. She's gasping, _oh god_ and _yes_ and _Ben_ falling from her mouth. "I love you and I love our baby and you're going to be so beautiful so big and full on top of me, full of my cock and full of my baby and I—"

She comes then, hard, her body thrown forward. She's babbling, _your baby our baby fuck i'm full i'm fuck_ , and he reaches out, fingers brushing her clit and she's crying in earnest now, hot tears hitting his chest. Her walls squeeze tight over and over and his words are stuttering and his cock is spurting, hot come filling her as his hips slam up into her welcoming body.

He pulls her down against him, wrapping her in his arms as she sobs against him. He strokes her hair and blows gentle _shhs_.

In the quiet of later, a realization slowly spreads through his veins like warm molasses, like Rey's warm breaths of sleep against his chest. As something is changing in Rey, so is something changing in him. It's a nagging at the back of his mind, needling him. He ignores it, closes his eyes and kneads Rey's ass, the rhythmic ministrations lulling him to sleep.

——

Rey never needs help. All his attempts are rebuffed.

He stands in the doorway of the bathroom, hovering, tense and motionless, being strong for her. He already holds a glass of water for her, waiting patiently for the retching to stop. Weeks ago, he'd made the mistake of trying to help, held her hair and rubbed circles on her back, but she'd shoved him away, embarrassed to be needy and helpless.

She had gotten up early: she'd jostled the bed as she leapt for the bathroom, shaking him awake. He'd rolled onto his back, roughly rubbed the sleep from his eyes, winced at the sound of Rey choking, vomit hitting the bowl. It's been weeks of mornings like this, interspersed with noons and evenings and nights spent in the same way, Rey resting for a few hours before being driven from bed.

She’s endured it all stoically.

Rey finally sits back against the wall, wiping her mouth with a wad of toilet paper and flushing. Ben wordlessly hands her the glass of water. "Thanks," she says, taking a tentative sip.

“I’m going to make you some breakfast,” he says. The doctor said counterintuitively the nausea would lessen with more food in her stomach, so Ben scrambles a couple of eggs and lightly butters some toast for her every morning. Rey keeps it down, at least until she gets settled at work. He puts the food on the table with a mug of weak tea and a glass of orange juice.

Usually Rey gets dressed and meets him in the kitchen where he can pretend not to hover while she eats. Today he heads back to the bedroom to get dressed; as he passes the bathroom, he sees Rey’s there, already dressed for work in a loose blouse and pencil skirt. She’s braced against the counter, head down, shoulders shaking. She’s crying. “Rey,” Ben says gently. She doesn’t move, instead exhales a sob. He says to himself _fuck it_ and swallows her in an embrace. She turns and buries her head against his chest, grips his t-shirt in white-knuckled fists. He strokes her hair and her back and whispers _it's okay you're okay_ against her crown. “Rey, what’s wrong?”

She turns her tear-stained face up to look at him and coughs. “I’m so tired,” she admits. “I’m sick and tired and I’m tired of being sick, and I’m supposed to be happy and excited, and there are people who are so much sicker than me, and I’m—” Fresh tears fall.

Ben cradles her face in his hands, kisses her forehead and smiles. “You’re allowed to be miserable, Rey, it’s okay.” He pauses, considers her for a moment, an idea brewing. He takes her hand. “Come on, we need to get food in you.”

He sits her down at the table, watches as she nibbles at the corner of a piece of toast. She sniffs a couple of times, takes a bite of egg. When he’s satisfied she’ll be okay by herself, he quickly heads to the bedroom and grabs Rey’s phone.

He’s scrolling through her contacts when he sits down across from her. “What are you doing,” she asks, sipping juice.

Ben smiles and lifts the phone to his ear. “Surprise,” is all he says. Rey gives him a questioning look and takes another bite of eggs. “Hi,” he says, the phone connecting, “This is Ben Solo, Rey’s husband.” Rey opens her mouth but Ben holds up a finger. “I was calling to let you know she won’t be coming in today.”

Rey gasps. “ _Ben_ ,” she hisses, “I have stuff I need to do!”

Ben shakes his head. “No, she’s very sick. Stomach thing. That’s why it’s me calling.” Ben pauses. “Yes, sure, I’ll let her know. Thanks.” He hits “end call” and then starts tapping the screen.

“Ben.” Rey reaches across the table. “What’s going on?”

“I told you. Surprise.” Ben's smile grows. “Hey, Hux, It’s Ben. I’m not coming in today.” He takes a sip of Rey’s tea. “No, Rey’s really sick, I need to keep an eye on her.” Pause. “Yeah, no, I’ll forward the spreadsheets to you if you can look them over for me. Okay, I appreciate it.” Pause. “I’ll tell her.” He glances up. "Armie says feel better soon." Pause. “You, too. I’ll call you later. Thanks, Hux.”

“ _Ben_.”

He hangs up and sets the phone down, reaches across the table and takes her hand. “Surprise.”

“Ben, I can’t stay home.”

“Are you done with breakfast?”

“Yes. But I have a project—” She begins to list all the pressing tasks that hang over her head, but Ben ignores her and cleans up from breakfast. He closes the dishwasher and turns to Rey.

“You ready?”

“Ready for what?”

He rounds the table, pulls out Rey’s chair, and scoops her into his arms. She squeals and wraps her arms around his neck. He carries her into the bathroom and sets her down, pointing at the sink. “Brush your teeth,” he orders, and leaves her, heading into the bedroom and digging a clean pair of pajamas from a dresser.

Rey comes in, smelling of mint and lavender soap, and stands in front of him. He starts with her skirt: undoing the clasp and pulling down the zipper, the material pooling at her feet. Next comes her blouse: giant fingers fumble tiny buttons through holes until Rey is free and shrugging the garment onto the floor. Ben grasps her shoulders and turns her, unhooking her bra and adding it to the pile of clothes. He helps her into her pajamas; as she crawls into their bed he hangs her things in the closet. Still in the clothes he slept in, he turns off the light and climbs in behind her.

Rey rolls over to face him, tears again welling in her eyes. "Thank you, Ben." She gives him a gentle kiss.

He wipes away a tear with his thumb. "You don't have to keep things from me," he says. "If you're in pain, if you're struggling, I'm here." He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm supposed to take care of you. I want to take care of you."

She shudders, drawing in a breath. She picks at his t-shirt, catalogs with her fingertips the galaxy of moles on his neck, on his face. Finally: "I'm scared."

Ben nods. "I am, too. But I'm here. You're not alone."

Rey kisses him deeply, pulls back and caresses his cheek. "Neither are you." She sighs. "I'm going to try to do better."

"Roll over," he says, wrapping his arms around her middle and hugging her to his chest. He kisses behind her ear. "You don't have to do better, Rey. Just let me help."

She nods and pulls her pillow closer, bunching it under her head. Ben relaxes behind her, feeling her breathing gradually slow. He pulls back a bit until he's able to lay a hand against her belly, intending to rhythmically stroke her into a deeper sleep. But he freezes, startled, struggling to hold in a gasp, struggling to not wake Rey.

The skin under his hand—the belly he knows so well, the belly his lips have sunken into, the belly he's kneaded while holding Rey down to devour her—there's no give. Rey's fit, athletic, but she's still had a feminine softness. This is different: the unstoppable force of his palm meeting a flat immovable plane.

And it dawns on him, as her abdomen gently rises and falls, that what he's feeling is her womb, full of fluid and placenta and a tiny organism that grows bigger every day, distending and stretching to make room. She isn't showing, but the firmness under his hand is proof of the life they've made. Proof for only them, a precious secret for the time being, invisible under prying eyes. But: there, solid, unyielding, under his hand.

He feels tears sting. He sucks in a breath, begins slowly brushing Rey's skin with his thumb. "Hi, baby," he whispers against her head, her hair a soft mass of shiny fiber optic wires carrying his quivering voice to barely formed ears. "It's nice to meet you. I'm your daddy." Ben imagines he can feel fluttering against his palm. He snuggles closer to Rey. They both sleep uninterrupted until dinner.

——

He doesn't know what's come over him. If he were a religious man, Ben would prostrate himself at Rey's feet and beg her forgiveness. Hell, throw in some self-flagellation, too, while he's at it, because this is encroaching dangerously close to perversion, if he has to put the most guilt-inducing name to what he's feeling.

Because it's perverse, how horny he is. Can a man spontaneously develop a sex addiction? Is that possible, is it a thing? What's the gateway? How do you fall into it? What is the hand rolled joint that leads to expiring in a pool of your sick in a vacant house?

It is Rey in panties in the closet that does it, angrily casting one hanger to the side after another, barking over her shoulder, "I thought I'd get at least a few more months before needing new pants." He knows it's signing his own death warrant to laugh but he can't help it, she's so cute when she's angry. She takes a deep breath, turns on her heel, ready to rip him a new one, but she stops.

"Why are you looking at me like that," she asks.

And he really needs to remember to ask her when it happened, what he was so preoccupied with that he missed it, what was so goddamned important he failed to notice that she'd popped. She's not so big that she probably can't hide it a little longer, but naked...there's definitely a bump. She's past looking like she's eaten a big meal. Big enough now to cause problems with the waistbands of her pants and skirts. Her breasts are a little bigger, the rosy nipples a little darker, but her belly...he's drawn to it like a thirsty man to an oasis.

His large hands reach out, seeking, drawn to the soft swell. He engulfs the unyielding curve, skin warm and silky and he falls to his knees and anoints her with kisses. Above him, Rey gasps, swaying, fingers weaving into his hair and grasping to keep from falling. His hands reach around to her ass, urging her closer, nose bumping her sex, inhalations quick and deafening.

" _Need to fuck you_ ," he chokes, mouthing her, yanking down her panties. He pulls her apart with his thumbs, dives in, tongue digging for treasure. Rey's writhing above him, gasping his name, until her knees buckle and he guides her gently to the floor.

And then Ben's on her, tickling, teasing, tasting, and then Ben's in her, furiously pumping, pounding, Rey's fingers slipping on his sweaty biceps, struggling for purchase. And Ben's groin repeatedly slaps against her bump, against their baby, against the bit of himself that he gave to her months ago to protect and nurture within her body, marking her as his.

" _Mine_ ," he growls, mouthing at her neck. "My Rey sweetheart Rey fuck baby my— _fuck_!" And then Ben's hips jerk and he buries himself as deep as she can take him as he empties inside her. And as he stills he realizes Rey has been gently stroking his hair, murmuring against his ear _love you so much I'm yours always love you_. He pulls away, gazing down on Rey, her hair haloed around her head, skin flushed and dewy, wearing the soft smile of the satiated. His long fingers ghost down her cheek, between her breasts, over the swell of her belly.

Rey reaches out, places her hand over his, and presses his hand against her skin. He glances up and meets her eyes. They're wet with unwashed tears, a smile upturning the corner of her mouth. She's never been more beautiful. He's never felt more love.

Ben is hooked.

——

He aches to touch her.

Every near miss passing in the hall, middle rubbing against him; as she stretches to reach her favorite cereal on the shelf at the store, shirt riding up and baring taut skin. Barely listening to Hux drone on across from him at the cafe's table, instead watching Rey in line, head thrown back laughing at something Rose has said, Rey's hand absent-mindedly massaging her large belly. He wants to do it, rub her skin, feel their child tossing and turning, his stroking calming for both mother and child.

He aches to be inside her, her hot, slick walls gripping him as he slides in and out. Every time, he has to have his hands on her, enveloping their child in his grasp, mimicking her body's safe haven.

She is glorious like this: already a force of nature, she is now also a giver of life. He is jealous, he is proud, he is in awe.

He is hers.

——

She sits atop his pelvis, her fingers drawing circles through the little bit of hair dusting his abdomen. His cock is still inside her, softening, but neither has made any move to uncouple. This is her favorite position for sex, now: she can't lay flat on her back anymore, on her knees she says she feels as though a pendulum hangs heavy from her middle swinging back and forth.

He's fine like this, prefers it, even (maybe he'll tell her) because he loves caressing her ripe body. Every once in a while, as his hands drift over her, their child will kick at them to remind them he's there. Sometimes he's vigorous, annoyed at being jostled by their passion. Other times, it's a languid tumbling, rolling as gently as their lovemaking.

Now, Ben kneads Rey's breast, his hand drifting to stroke the outline of a foot underneath. The foot pushes back.

Rey sighs. "It's different, you know."

"What's different?" Ben risks poking at the protrusion, barking a laugh when the foot returns the poke.

"Coming. My orgasm." Rey rests her hands over his, stilling him. "Stop antagonizing the baby."

"But it's fun," he grins. "Different how?"

"When you rile him up, I'm the one he takes it out on, remember." She smirks, guiding his hand to press circles into her flesh, attempting to calm their child. "This is going to sound weird," she begins, "but when I come, when it's really intense, my uterus contracts." She moves his hands to the top of her belly. "It's why I ask for sex when my cramps are really bad, it helps sometimes."

Ben nods. "Makes sense."

Rey's hands drift to his chest. "So, now—" She glances at him, eyes quickly moving away, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Now my uterus is huge. It's stretched around a baby. So when I come—" Her eyes meet his again. "When I come, I can feel it in new places. I can feel my uterus contracting here." She points to her protruding belly button. "And I can feel it all the way up here, near my ribs." She rests her hands atop her bump. She grimaces. "This is going to sound ridiculous," Rey laughs harshly, "but when it happens, I feel like I'm giving the baby a hug inside."

Ben sits up, holds her face between his hands. "Rey, that's not ridiculous...that's _amazing_."

"You don't think— " She looks sheepish. "You don't think he knows what we're doing?"

Ben throws his head back and expels a long, loud laugh. "No," he says, kissing her nose, "unfortunately I think we will have to explain sex to him in person, when he's older."

"Because he's too little to remember?"

Ben feels himself stiffening inside her. He brings her lips to his, working her until she's humming against him. When he pulls away, he tells her, "I've got an idea."

"What?" she asks, dubious.

Ben grins mischievously. "I say we give the little brat 'inside hugs' until it's burned into his brain how much we love him, and then hopefully we won't ever have to have 'The Talk' with him."

Rey laughs and slaps his shoulder. The movement causes her to shift back, taking him deeper inside. Causes them both to gasp.

"I wanna give him lots of inside hugs," she says, rocking against him, "and I want to give you lots of inside hugs, too." She clenches around his cock.

"Good, because I love inside hugs." Ben gasps, holding her tightly, slowly thrusting into her. "They're the best kind of hugs."

**Author's Note:**

> ps inside hugs are real


End file.
